Pistols are firing on the poor and the week.
Tanks are gushing their smoke of relief
And I know that it’s hard to survive.

Here where we lie in the dead of the night
Our soul front windows closing up for the night
And I duck only to glance at you eyes.

But we can have ourselves our little house
And give ourselves a break
We can only build from what is ours.
But we have all we need.
To build a sky, how lucky we really are, you and I.

Children are shot in the streets where they grow,
The needles are piercing the arms of our souls
And I know that it’s hard not to get high.

Here we will lie on our carpet less floors
Our table down flatways four legs on a door
And we smile cause right now it’s all we can afford.

But we can have ourselves our little house
And give ourselves a break
We can only build from what is ours.
But we have all we need.
To build a sky, how lucky we really are, you and I.

And where frailties lie I cannot hide.
Cause others need me now to show my stronger side.
And when the song is sung sometime
The fat lady cries
Whatever tomorrow brings I know
We’ll still be lucky you and I.